


We're Not Just Friends (and You Fucking Know It)

by reddieandgoodnight



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pining, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 09:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14734355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddieandgoodnight/pseuds/reddieandgoodnight
Summary: "Eddie didn’t know how he’d gotten himself into this situation. Then again, that was typical when it came to being around Richie. Richie just….caused him to do strange things sometimes."A home for several Reddie Tumblr prompts. They weren't written to interconnect, but you can read a couple of them that way, if you'd like. The boys are 18 in all of the prompts.





	1. "Bite Me"

Eddie didn’t know how he’d gotten himself into this situation. Then again, that was typical when it came to being around Richie. Richie just….caused him to do strange things sometimes.

They had been sitting on the couch watching TV after school since Eddie’s mom was still at work. But whenever Eddie glanced at Richie, Richie’s eyes were always on him instead of the screen. Richie would hurriedly look away, but Eddie could feel Richie’s eyes return to him as soon as he turned away again.

After ten minutes of this, Eddie finally snapped.

“ _What_ are you looking at? _Why do you keep staring at me?_ ”

Richie’s mouth opened and then closed—no answer forthcoming for the first time in Eddie’s memory. He’d grown tall over the years, and it seemed as though his lanky frame wanted to curl into itself at the question.

“Well, fine,” Eddie said after a moment. “If you’re going to stare at me and not tell me why, I guess I’ll just stare back.” 

And so he did. Eddie propped himself a little higher in his seat, squirming until he sat cross-legged, his entire body facing Richie. And he stared. 

 _Oh, he stared._  

Eddie stared at Richie’s reddening face, at the way his tongue darted out to lick his lips, at the slight tremor in his limbs. Eddie stared at Richie’s black curls and how they framed his face, at his wide brown eyes behind those old coke-bottle glasses, at the freckles adorning his skin like constellations.  

Five minutes passed in silence. For the first time, Eddie wished Richie would break it because he could feel the air changing around them. Some strange electricity seeming to run between he and Richie; Eddie wasn’t sure if the shock would warm them or destroy them.

“I….I don’t know how to tell you….”

Eddie perked up at the sound of Richie’s voice. “Tell me what, trashmouth?” he asked with a smirk. 

But Richie didn’t smile back like he usually did. His blush deepened as he turned to face Eddie, a sheen of sweat glimmering on his face.

“I just….I’ve wanted to tell you for years, Eds. _Years_. But…I don’t want you to hate me.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “What on earth would I hate you for, Rich?” he asked, not bothering to correct Richie’s nickname for him. That nickname he pretended to hate.

“For being in love with you.”

Eddie’s mouth fell open. He felt a blush rising on his cheeks as he gazed at Richie, breathing growing heavier. That electricity ran up and down his body, causing his hair to stand up and a shiver to run down his spine.

“I-I—” His mouth flapped as he struggled to form words under the intense stare Richie was giving him. 

Wait, Richie was moving closer.

Their eye contact never broke as Richie got up on his hands and knees and crawled toward Eddie. Eddie was frozen as the other boy neared, feeling as though he couldn’t breathe. 

But maybe Richie was his air.

“R-Richie?” Eddie nearly squeaked when Richie was only half a foot away.

Richie stopped but said nothing.

“I…I think I’m in love with you too,” Eddie whispered.

Richie blinked before his face broke into a smile. The expression lit up his face so brightly that Eddie felt blinded by it—blinded in the best way possible. 

Eddie felt himself smiling back, smiling so hard that tears threatened on the verge of his vision. He made no move to get away when Richie closed the space between them, pulling him against Richie’s chest before connecting their lips. The kiss wasn’t perfect, but it felt as closer to perfection than anything Eddie had ever known in his short life. 

He gasped when Richie pulled back to let them both breathe.

“Sorry, Eds,” Richie mumbled, resting his forehead against Eddie’s. “I know I take your mom’s breath away, but I didn’t mean to completely steal yours.” Richie laughed softly when Eddie smacked him in the shoulder, his breathy chuckles shaking Eddie’s body until the other boy giggled a little in return.

“ **Bite me** , asshole,” Eddie muttered.

“As you wish.”

“Wait, what—” 

Eddie’s voice cut off when Richie fisted a hand in Eddie’s hair and gently tugged his head to the side. He moaned when Richie kissed his neck, soft lips and teeth making their way down Eddie’s sensitive skin, sucking bruises into the flesh caught in their grasp. Richie pulled the collar of his oversized t-shirt—one of Richie’s, actually—down to expose Eddie’s shoulder.

When Richie’s lips reached the junction of Eddie’s neck and shoulder, he bit down. Eddie startled, letting out a high-pitched yelp that morphed into a low moan as he shivered under Richie’s ministrations. Richie let go after a moment, tongue darting out to soothe the mark.

Eddie made no protest when Richie pushed him to lie against the armrest of the couch. Richie stared down at him, and Eddie felt both small and wanted under that gaze—that stare that had started all of this. 

“I love you, Eds,” Richie said, voice serious but warm.

“I love you, too,” Eddie said. “Now stop calling me that and kiss me.” He blushed at his own boldness.

Richie laughed. “As you wish, my love. As you wish.”


	2. "I’m Pregnant"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some slight mentions of sex.

When Richie saw the letter in the mail, he couldn’t believe it. He’d applied on a whim—a dare to himself—and now an actual letter in response? It had to be a mistake, had to be nothing more than another rejection.

But when he opened it, the first words he read were “Dear Mr. Tozier, Congratulations on your acceptance to the University of California, Los Angeles.”

He walked back inside his house to the telephone. But instead of dialing Eddie’s number like he would in nearly every other situation, he found himself punching in Beverly’s. 

“Hello?” Beverly answered after a few rings, caution in her voice.

“Hey, pretty lady. Fancy comin’ ‘round my place this fine evening?”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Beverly replied, the former tension leaking out of her voice as she laughed. 

“Bev, I got in.”

“Got in where?”

“To UCLA.”

There was a split second of silence before a triumphant screech forced Richie to lift the phone away from his ear. He could still hear Beverly distantly screaming even from a few inches away. When the shouting died down, Richie brought the phone back to his ear.

“Holy shit, Richie! I’m so happy for you! Just…holy fucking shit!”

Richie knew he should be feeling the same elation Beverly was feeling for him. But coldness seeped through him, pinning him in his place like a butterfly nailed to a collector’s board. He could feel himself shivering—invisible wings struggling against the bonds holding him. 

It was terror coursing through his veins. Pure, simple terror.  

“Richie, what’s wrong?”

Of course she knew. Beverly always knew. 

Richie’s mouth opened. He wanted to tell a joke, do one of his voices, anything to avoid what was thrumming through his heart hard enough to hurt.

But the truth came out anyway.

“Eddie doesn’t know.”

“Doesn’t know you got in?”

“No, he….” Richie rubbed at his eyes behind his glasses. His voice lowered to a murmur. “He doesn’t even know I applied.”

He heard Beverly shifting. “Why wouldn’t you tell him?”

“Eds didn’t apply to any colleges in California,” Richie whispered.

Bev was silent for only a moment.  _“Oh, Richie.”_

Richie struggled to speak around the lump in his throat. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You have to tell him.”

“No shit, Marsh.”

“Fuck off, trashmouth,” Bev snapped without any real heat. Her voice softened. “Richie, Eddie loves you. He loves you more than anything. You’d have to be completely blind not to see that he worships the ground you walk on.”  
  
“What if it’s not enough?” Richie whispered, tears welling in his eyes. The fear was stronger than ever, reaching up to choke him with the thought of ever being more than ten minutes away from Eddie Kaspbrak.

_What if it’s not enough?  
_

***

The next day at school was a terrifying blur. Every time Richie saw Eddie, he wanted to walk up to his boyfriend and tell Eddie the truth. But then Eddie would look up at him with those big brown eyes and that sweet, trusting smile, and Richie’s mind would lose all coherent thought. Even his trusty jokes failed him, his brain unable to comprehend anything but the looming separation between him and the love of his life that was coming. And so he’d mutter something or other and flee. 

He hid from Eddie in the bathroom during lunch, locking himself in a stall while barely keeping his emotions in check. He couldn’t have a crying fit in a school bathroom; it was just so goddamned cliché. 

But that didn’t mean a few tears didn’t leak out. 

After school, Richie hurriedly shoved his books in his locker and ran to his car. As he went to open the car door, a voice rang out after him. 

“Richie, wait up!”

_Fuck. Fuck fuck FUCK._

Richie turned to see Eddie hurrying across the Derry High parking lot, face somewhat red in the brisk March air. He reached Richie and took a moment to gasp for air, dark hair tousled from the wind. 

Richie gazed at the smattering of sweet cinnamon freckles that crossed the bridge of Eddie’s nose, and his heart constricted.

“Where have you been all day?” Eddie finally demanded when his breathing had calmed. “Every time I saw you, you ran the other direction.” Eddie’s hands were on his hips in that what-the-fuck-Tozier stance that Richie secretly adored, brows tilted alarmingly.

“I…I just….” 

Richie’s voice trailed off as he looked into Eddie’s warm brown eyes. 

“…had things to do,” he finished lamely.

“Rich, what’s wrong?” Eddie asked, voice softening. “I know something’s up. Tell me, and I can help you.”

Richie wanted to cry. Here was this perfect boy in front of him, offering to help him admit that he’d been accepted to a college all the way across the country. No way would Eddie want to follow him that far; Eddie had a life here. Richie couldn’t just tear Eddie away when Eddie hadn’t even applied to schools in California. Eddie wouldn’t want to come with him…but Richie didn’t know how he could possibly survive in a world without Eddie.

“You can’t help me,” Richie finally said. 

Eddie sighed loudly. “Just fucking tell me what’s going on, Richie!”

“I didn’t want to tell you like this, dear,” Richie said, voice rising into his southern belle impersonation. “ **I’m pregnant**.”

Eddie stared at him for a moment before frowning even more deeply. “What the fuck, Richie?” he asked, and Richie wanted to die at the hurt in his voice. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, Eds—”

“Then why won’t you fucking tell me what’s going on?”

“Because I’m scared!”

Eddie froze as Richie finally burst.

“I’m scared, Eds! I’m so fucking scared that I’m going to screw up everything, and you’re going to hate me.” Richie mumbled the last two words, wanting to fall into Eddie’s wide, wide eyes.

“Richie, what is happening?” Eddie whispered. “You’re scaring me.”

Richie exhaled shakily before turning to dig around in his backpack. He could feel Eddie’s eyes on him as his hands closed around the acceptance letter he’d shoved into his bag this morning. He turned and held the piece of paper out at Eddie, waving it at the smaller boy when his boyfriend didn’t immediately take it.

Eddie snatched the paper away and unfolded it. Richie waited, heart sinking as he watched Eddie’s eyes growing wider and wider as Eddie skimmed over the words.

After a moment, Eddie looked up at Richie. “You got into UCLA?” Eddie said. “You didn’t tell me you were applying there.” He paused. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because…I didn’t….you never said you wanted to leave the east coast, and I didn’t want you to feel any pressure or anything…”

“But you got in,” Eddie said, eyes and voice unreadable. 

Richie said nothing.

“Are you going to go? You know you have to go, right?”

“I know,” Richie whispered. “But you…I don’t know if I can…can…”

Eddie’s eyes suddenly grew wider. “Are you breaking up with me? Is that why you’ve been hiding from me all day?” 

Richie gaped at Eddie, whose eyes were filling with tears. 

“No!” Richie nearly shouted. “No! Shit, Eds, I don’t ever want to break up with you.”

Eddie sniffled, sounding much younger than eighteen as he wiped at his eyes. “Then why didn’t you tell me? Were you just going to run off to California without even saying goodbye? What the fuck, Tozier?”

“Because I thought you wouldn’t want to come with me.” 

Eddie’s head snapped up, and he stared at Richie as though the other boy had somehow mutated into some monstrous being. “What are you talking about? You didn’t even give me a chance to answer!”

“Answer?” Richie repeated, confused. “But I didn’t ask—”

“Ask me now.”

“What?”

_“Ask me right now.”  
_

Richie blinked. He licked his chapped lips, quivers running down his spine as Eddie gaze up at him hopefully. Warmth was starting to spread in his chest, pushing away the horrid fear that had been eating at him since he first saw that admissions letter.

“Eds, do you want to go to California with me?”

Eddie smiled, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. “Of course I do, you fucking idiot.”

Richie had thought he knew what happiness was when he’d first kissed Eddie back when they were fourteen and shy and entirely unsure of what to do. He thought he knew it when Eddie had agreed to be his boyfriend in their freshman year. He thought he knew when they’d lost their virginities to each other a few months ago, fumbling and laughing and loving their way through it.

All of those moments had been beautiful, and Richie knew this was another moment to remember—Eddie looking up at him with a tearful grin after readily agreeing to follow him across the country.

“I’m so stupid for not telling you sooner,” Richie said.

“Yeah, you really are.”

Later when they lay naked in Richie’s bed, Eddie curled into Richie’s chest, Richie’s arms tight around Eddie as they breathed in unison, Richie finally knew things were going to be okay.

“I love you,” Eddie said sleepily.

Richie smiled widely. He gently brushed Eddie’s hair away from the smaller boy’s face before pressing a kiss to Eddie’s forehead.

“I love you too,” he whispered in Eddie’s ear. “So fucking much. So, so fucking much.”


	3. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some non-graphic nsfw stuff.

When Eddie Kaspbrak was younger, everything seemed easy. It was easy hanging out with his friends, easy to wander all over Derry getting into the kind of shenanigans that thirteen-year-olds always do. Easy to hang out with his very best friend Richie Tozier after school, reading comic books and listening to the radio. Bill had been Eddie’s best friend first, but over time, Eddie became closest to Richie, who he always told off for saying and doing stupid things but who secretly had his admiration.

As the years passed, everything became less easy. The losers were of an age that feelings started coming into play—the kind of feelings Ben always obviously held for Beverly, the kind that caused teens to fall all over each other in silly waves. Things became hard when Eddie realized his feelings didn’t match those of other boys around him; he felt nothing for pretty girls like Beverly. He knew they were _pretty_ , of course, but he had no desire to know anything about them past that.  

Things got worse when Eddie began to realize why his gaze kept landing on the other boys instead, but especially when he began to notice Richie Tozier, of all people. Eddie had always loved his best friend—of course he did. But this—this was different. This was the kind of feeling that made him want to run his fingers across his friend’s cheek and neck and follow the touches with his own lips. 

But that could never happen. Richie wasn’t gay—he’d certainly kissed a few girls and had probably done more than that if Richie’s stories were to be believed—and even if he were, he certainly didn’t have feelings like that for Eddie Kaspbrak. 

Eddie knew this— _he knew it_ —but he couldn’t stop looking, and it grew worse and worse as the years passed. 

One day after school in their senior year, Eddie found himself looking at Richie out of the corner of his eye as they rolled toward Eddie’s house in Richie’s beat up truck. The radio was cranked up, Richie belting along to Toto’s “Africa” with that wild abandon that always tugged at Eddie’s heart. 

Richie’s black curls had grown longer, the spirals looking silky in the sunshine as they bounced with Richie’s dancing. His dark eyes were bright with energy and a lust for life as he turned to Eddie, singing the chorus like some strange serenade that had Eddie laughing, Richie’s red lips sensuous in their movements.

“A hundred men could never drag me away from my sweet Eds,” Richie sang instead of the true lyrics. “ _Not even Eddie’s sweet, sweet mom!_ ”

“Shut up, you asshole,” Eddie said, his grin taking all the bite out of the words. “I thought we were having a moment, and you bring my mom into it?”

“A moment?” Richie asked, eyebrows raised. “Why, this is getting quite serious, Mr. Kaspbrak. You’re going to have to have a talk with my daddy about courting me. And I’m afraid I’ll have to break Mrs. K’s heart, poor thing.”

“Beep fucking beep, Richie,” Eddie said, shaking his head. 

“Our love can never be silenced, Eds!”

“I told you not to call me that!”

“Aw, you love it,” Richie replied with a wink. He pulled the truck to a stop in front of Eddie’s house. 

Richie grew quiet for a moment, gazing at Eddie with such a sweet smile that Eddie felt his heart fluttering in that old, frustrating way. Eddie froze as Richie reached over and gently brushed Eddie’s curls away from his forehead, fingers skimming over Eddie’s reddening cheek and pinching it lightly.

“You’re just too cute, Eds,” Richie said quietly, still smiling. 

Eddie stared at Richie, at those sweet brown eyes and soft hair and gentle smile and freckles spread across his nose like fairy kisses. He was a boy who always considered the consequences of his actions, but in that moment, all he felt was pure instinct as he darted forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of Richie’s mouth. 

The spell broke as soon as Eddie’s lips made contact with Richie’s soft skin. 

Eddie flailed almost violently backward against the passenger door, terror, pure terror

_(no, no, no, what did I do?)_

pulsing through his body, dousing out the sweetness of the moment before as Richie stared at him in shock, pink dusting across the other boy’s freckles as Richie tentatively touched the spot where Eddie had so thoughtlessly planted a kiss. 

A moment of heavy, heavy silence passed, both boys gazing at one another with wide eyes.

“Eds,” Richie finally said. “You—I—”

Eddie felt tears pricking at his eyes. This was the part where Richie gently told him that Eddie was so, so sweet, but that Richie liked girls, not neurotic little hypochondriacs.

_No_.

Before Richie could say another word, Eddie grabbed his bag and yanked the door open, scrambling out of the car and slamming the door on whatever the hell Richie was yelling at him before fleeing toward his house. He heard Richie’s door opening, which just made him run faster, unlocking the front door in record time and shutting it behind him and locking it right as Richie reached the front porch. 

Eddie leaned back against the door as Richie pounded on it.

“Eds, come on! Open the fucking door!”

Eddie shook his head at the words, slowly trudging up the stairs and away from the frantic knocking and shouting. It looked like his mother had the late shift tonight and wouldn’t be back until early morning, so at least he didn’t have to explain why Richie Tozier was trying to break down the door. 

He closed the door of his room behind him before sitting on his bed, tossing his backpack aside. Tears ran down his face as the gravity of what he had done settled over him. In a single stupid instant of attraction, he had destroyed his friendship with Richie, his very best friend. It could never be the same, now that Richie knew that not only did Eddie like boys but he liked _Richie_. 

Eddie huffed a sob, then another, louder this time. He curled up around his pillow as he cried, not knowing how to fix the shitshow that was his life.

***

A few hours passed, and Eddie had mostly calmed down. His heart was heavy, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore. He was sitting at his desk, attempting to focus on homework, when something knocked against his window. Eddie blinked as the knock came again. He turned around and saw Richie crouched outside his window.

Eddie felt his face blanch, breath whistling in his throat, but the rest of his body seemed to be functioning without his input as he stood and walked over to the window and opened it for Richie to clamber inside.

He backed away from the taller boy, putting a few feet of space between them.

“You’re not going to run away again this time, are you?” Richie asked, frustration in his eyes.

Eddie shook his head, unable to speak.

“Okay, just—Good, okay,” Richie muttered with a sigh. “What the fuck even, Eds?”

Eddie trembled a little. “I’m s-sorry, Rich,” he said, voice heavy. “I just…I shouldn’t have done that—”

“Damn right you shouldn’t have kissed me and _ran away_ —”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you at all.”

Richie froze, eyes widening almost comically. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“I was so stupid!” Eddie burst out. “I wasn’t thinking and I was just…I was just so stupid. I don’t know why I kissed you—”

“Really?” Richie interrupted. “You don’t know why?”

Eddie stared at Richie, confused. “Well, I mean….I pushed something on you that I shouldn’t have, and I…I was wrong…. We’re just friends—”

“ **We’re not just friends, and you fucking know it**.”

Eddie’s mouth fell open. He was gaping at Richie and he knew it, but he couldn’t seem to stop. Time around them seemed to have frozen as they stared at one another—Eddie’s eyes wide and Richie’s face screwed up in frustration. 

“I’ve liked you for such a long time, it was driving me insane,” Richie burst out. “I… _You’re fucking beautiful, Eds_. Everything about you. And today you suddenly kiss me and then run away and then tell me it was a _fucking mistake?_ ”

Warmth pulsed through Eddie’s body at Richie’s words, his cheeks a bright, ruddy red. “I…what?” he finally whispered. “You…you like me?”

Richie laughed wetly, and Eddie suddenly realized the other boy had tears in his eyes. “I think it’s way past like now, babe. I’m fucking in love with you.”

“I love you too,” Eddie whispered. He made no move to get away as Richie stepped forward, pulled him against Richie, and pressed their lips together. They seemed to slot into place in a way that Eddie had never felt before, a way that sent shivers through him even as a sort of peace settled over him—a sweet heaviness that pressed him further against Richie’s body.

Heat swirled in his stomach as Richie licked into his mouth. He pushed any thoughts of germs away and let his tongue slide against Richie’s, the velvet warmth drawing a soft moan from him. He realized Richie was walking him backward, but he allowed it. The back of his knees hit the bed, and he parted from Richie’s lips long enough to look up at the other boy.

Richie already looked wrecked, face red and eyes dark with want. Eddie nearly moaned again at the look.

“Eddie,” Richie whispered, knuckles brushing across Eddie’s cheek. “I…I want you.” His hips pressed lightly against Eddie’s, and Eddie shivered. “We don’t have to do anything—”

It was Richie’s turn to be surprised as Eddie sat down on the bed.

“I love you, Richie,” Eddie murmured. “For a really long time. I don’t really know what I’m doing…but I trust you.”

Richie shivered. “Is this what you want, Eds? Are you sure?”

“Only if you stop calling me that,” Eddie replied, smiling.

Richie let out a startled laugh, bemused. He crawled onto the bed as Eddie scooted backward. Richie leaned forward to kiss Eddie again, his long fingers running down Eddie’s sides to grip the smaller boy’s hips.

Eddie let himself get lost in the sensations, each minute, each second bringing something new. Kisses being pressed to his neck. Clothing being tugged off with various amounts of success—Eddie giggling as Richie cursed at Eddie’s belt and Richie’s shirt getting stuck on the Richie’s glasses for a few minutes. Their bare skin touching. Whispered wants and soft moaning and occasional giggling when someone slipped or felt momentarily awkward. Richie nearly knocking the lamp off of Eddie’s bedside table while grabbing for the bottle of lotion sitting there. 

Richie’s fingers pressing inside of him, initially hurting but eventually giving way to pleasure, culminating with Richie entering him as gently as possible. The pain of being stretched around his best friend, his love, leaving him with teary eyes as Richie whispered apologies and encouragement ( _“Do you want to stop?” Richie asked. “ _I’ll stop!”_ “N-no,” Eddie said, panting. “I’m okay. It’s okay. Keep going.”_). The hurt morphing into white hot bliss that had him screaming in the end and Richie following soon after.

Afterward, Richie cleaned them off with his t-shirt and lay down beside Eddie, drawing the still somewhat trembling boy into his arms, stroking up and down Eddie’s sweat-sheened back as Eddie’s panting calmed.

When his breath returned, Eddie looked up at Richie. “So…if we’re not just friends—”

“I dunno, Eds. That was pretty damn _friendly_ —”

“Shut the fuck up—”

“That’s not what you were saying a few minutes ago—”

“Ugh, you’re disgusting, and I hate you. I don’t even want to be boyfriends now.”

Richie blinked. “Boyfriends?” he asked, dark eyes shining with happiness. “You….want to be my boyfriend, Eddie?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Eddie replied, starting to laugh.

Richie gasped and then howled with laughter. “Eddie Spaghetti gets off a good one. Yowza yowza yowza.” After a moment of giggling, he calmed enough to look at Eddie with a wide grin.

Eddie smiled back, expression soft. He reached out, tracing the tips of his fingers over Richie’s cheek and down the other boy’s neck, feeling over the slight stubble there and breathing deep that sweet familiar smell of cigarettes and bubblegum, tasting it on the tip of his tongue.

“Boyfriends?” Eddie whispered, voice and smile both warm.

“Boyfriends.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”


	4. “Playing Chicken”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW.

Eddie Kaspbrak couldn’t believe he was in this stupid situation. He hated parties. Absolutely loathed them. Hated the noise of screaming high school seniors, the smell of mixing body odor and perfume, the taste of cheap alcohol. But he mostly hated being put in the kind of positions he was in right now.

Sitting in Richie Tozier’s lap with one of Richie’s hands cupped around the back of his neck and the other resting anything but innocently on his knee. And why? Because Richie had suggested—no, _dared_ —Eddie to play a game of chicken.  

And Eddie never said no to a dare.  

They were sitting on a couch tucked away in a corner, away from the worst of the haphazardly dancing, drinking, sloshing about crowd. The other losers weren’t too far, of course.  

Ben and Beverly were dancing wildly to whatever insane music was playing; the other party-goers around them had given the couple a wide berth for the flailing arms.

Bill was already drunk and looked to be having one of those conversations that drunk people think are deep but are not; Stan suffered in sarcastic silence. Eddie wasn’t sure how he knew Stan’s silence was sarcastic, but he did.  

Mike was yelling about something with the other football players, popular boy that he was. Between shouting and arguing—something he somehow did with friendliness, even when he was calling you a moron—Mike would smile widely at the other losers.

And Eddie was here, on Richie’s lap, playing a game of chicken like the fucking idiot he was.  

“All right, so here’s what we do,” Richie whispered conspiratorially. “You stay right there. And my hand"—he helpfully tapped his fingers on Eddie’s thigh—"is going to move up. If you pull away before I get to the top of your leg, I win. If you don’t, you win.”

“Remind me again why I said yes to this,” Eddie sighed.  

“Because you love me,” Richie said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.  

“I most certainly do not,” Eddie said dryly.  

“So much hurt coming from such a tiny person,” Richie said, laughing as Eddie smacked his arm. “All right. Eyes on me, Eds.”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie muttered, but he did as Richie said, keeping his eyes locked with the taller boy’s. He gulped a little as he felt Richie’s hand begin to slide up his thigh—very slowly. Richie was set on dragging this out, the bastard.

He watched Richie’s eyes, noting the flecks of gold in the brown of Richie’s irises behind the coke-bottle glasses, a couple of errant black curls falling over them. Richie’s hair looked soft, even under the harsh florescent lights.  

Richie’s hand slid up another inch, and Eddie shivered a little.  

Eddie’s eyes traced over the freckles smattered over Richie’s face; they looked like little star constellations mapping out Richie’s skin. There was a slight flush to Richie’s typically pale cheeks, and his mouth looked red and shiny. When Richie’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, Eddie saw why.

Richie always licked his lips when he was nervous. Eddie wondered how Richie could be the nervous one when it was _his_ hand sliding up _Eddie’s_ thigh, the hand that had gained another inch upward.  

Eddie couldn’t deny that Richie had a beautiful face. If anyone had told Eddie back when he was fourteen that he’d develop a crush on the loudmouth Richie Tozier, Eddie probably would have laughed in their face. But sitting here like this, with Richie’s hands on him, Eddie couldn’t refute the feelings that were fluttering in his chest.  

As Richie’s hand moved higher, Eddie knew this had been a very, very bad idea. Richie didn’t even mean anything by this; it was just a silly game. But all Eddie seemed to want to do with the feeling of Richie’s fingers grazing along his thigh was to pull Richie in for a kiss.  

A kiss that would likely cost him their friendship.  

Eddie’s breathing picked up when he felt Richie’s hand slide to the side so that Richie’s fingers were moving up the inside of Eddie’s thigh.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Eddie squeaked, flushing.

Eddie couldn’t help but notice how close that put Richie’s hand to his dick, which was currently singing for Richie’s touch. Eddie prayed to any god that would listen that Richie wouldn’t notice since the other boy’s eyes were still on Eddie’s face.  

“Just playing the game,” Richie replied, though his voice was strangely husky.  

Eddie nearly whimpered as Richie’s fingers drifted even higher, but he quickly swallowed down the noise before it could escape. He searched Richie’s eyes, neither of them noticing they had leaned closer to each other, breathing somewhat ragged as they stared at each other.

The party around them seemed to have completely floated away, leaving them alone in their own universe as they gazed at each other, faces flushed and eyes bright with something they wanted to pretend they didn’t understand but did.  

“R-Rich?” Eddie asked, not really sure what he was asking for.

“Yeah?” Richie said, hand sliding up and brushing against Eddie’s erection ever so slightly.

Eddie jumped, face turning an even brighter red than before. Panic rose in his chest as Richie glanced down at Eddie’s lap.  

_Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shitshitshit._

But then Richie looked back up, and there wasn’t any trace of disgust on his face. No, it was an intense…interest? Heat? Arousal?

They stared at each other, a string pulling between them tighter and tighter until it was sure to snap at any moment, either yanking them together or tearing them apart.

_Fuck it._

Eddie grabbed Richie’s shoulders and tugged the other boy forward. He caught a glimpse of Richie’s wide but excited eyes before he pressed his lips to Richie’s.  

A second passed, but just as Eddie began to feel a little uncertain, Richie came alive and kissed back, fingers tugging at the hair on Eddie’s neck and his other fingers brushing lightly between Eddie’s legs.  

Eddie moaned into Richie’s mouth, their heads tilting and moving with one another as they deepened the kiss. Eddie wanted Richie _closer closer closer_ , and he yanked the other boy toward him—a little too hard, as Richie toppled forward on top of him. But Eddie didn’t care at all, loving Richie’s weight on him. His hands roamed up Richie’s back and into the other boy’s hair. Richie groaned when Eddie pulled just a little.

When he was forced to break the frantic kiss to breathe, Eddie suddenly noticed the boisterous cheering going on around them. He turned to see the other losers all looking at him and Richie, whooping in various states of drunkenness. Beverly and Bill were the loudest—Bev actually screaming and Bill doing some sort of inebriated victory dance that Stan was attempting to stop while yelling, “Finally!” at Eddie and Richie.  

Eddie blushed all the way to the roots of his hair, which just encouraged his friends to cheer more loudly.  

“Richie!” he hissed, turning to look up at the boy still resting on top of him. Richie only grinned at Eddie’s flustered state. “Everyone’s staring at us.”

“Aw, they’re just happy for us, Eds.”

“Well, I’d rather not give them a fucking show—”

“A _fucking show?_ I mean, it’s a little fast, but that’s fine—”

“ _Beep fucking beep, you moron!_ ”

Richie threw his head back and laughed.

Eddie couldn’t help but notice how attractive it was—other parts of his body were in definite agreement. He winced as Richie suddenly seemed to notice, but the other boy only smiled at him.  

Richie stood up off the couch. Before Eddie could quite process what was happening, Richie grabbed his hand and tugged him toward and up the stairs, the other party goers still cheering and yammering around them. Eddie followed obediently enough, still flushed. Richie led them inside an empty bedroom, shutting the door behind them.  

Just as Eddie opened his mouth to say something, Richie turned and looked at him. The question on the tip of Eddie’s tongue died as he saw the heat and arousal in Richie’s eyes. His mouth dried at the sight, and he moaned a little, unable to help it. Richie seemed to hear it, smile growing wider.

Though the sounds of the party were still loud, they were muffled enough by the door to make Eddie feel as though he and Richie had found that universe of their own again. He shivered as Richie nearly prowled up to him and tugged him into another kiss, this one quickly becoming even more frenzied than the last.  

Eddie quickly lost track of who was where, floating in the sensations of soft lips pressed hard against his, a velvet tongue sliding into his mouth, hardness against his thigh. He missed the feeling of Richie’s weight on top of him, so he pulled once again, sending them toppling onto the bed behind them.  

They both giggled a little as they bounced from the force before they got back to kissing. Eddie moaned as Richie’s fingers slid up under his shirt, stroking the bare skin of his belly and sides before gripping his hips. Richie’s lips moved down to his neck, sucking marks into the skin. Eddie arched up under the sensations, a whimper leaving his throat as the motion pushed his hardness against Richie’s stomach.  

Richie looked up at Eddie, a soft smile curving his red lips. His hands slipped down a little, toying with the waistband of Eddie’s jeans.  

“Can I?” he asked, voice a little hoarse.

Eddie trembled but nodded, watching as Richie tugged down the Eddie’s zipper before pulling Eddie’s jeans and boxers down to his knees. He blushed fiercely as his hardness sprung up, red and leaking. He allowed Richie to reposition him so his legs were hanging off the bed, Richie kneeling between them.  

“I think this means I won the game,” Richie said, hand closing around Eddie’s dick.

Eddie moaned and then laughed a little. “I dunno, Rich. I’m not pulling away here.”

Richie laughed. “Fair enough, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“No nicknames in the bedroom.”

“Hmmm, we’ll see,” Richie said with a wink before bending to take Eddie into his mouth. Eddie breathed in sharply at the warm wetness around him, trembling as he moaned again, helpless not to.  

Richie’s fingers stroked up his thighs before closing over his hips, gently holding Eddie in place as he moved his mouth, sucking and licking. Eddie lost himself in the sensations, all manner of noises slipping from him as Richie worked him over.

After a moment, Eddie forced his eyes open, lifting himself up on his elbows to watch Richie bobbing up and down on his cock.  

One of Richie’s hands had lifted away from Eddie’s hip and had slid inside Richie’s jeans, jerking himself off even as he continued licking at Eddie’s dick. Richie’s eyes lifted to meet Eddie’s, a fever in their depths, and Eddie moaned at the sight, falling back on the bed.

Eddie could feel himself nearing his peak, stomach muscles rippling as his body tightened.  

“‘Chee…'Chee…I’m…I’m gonna…” He groaned.

Richie’s tongue swirled around his tip, pressing into his slit, and that was all it took. His body tensed and his back arched as his orgasm smashed into him, nearly screaming Richie’s name as he spurted into Richie’s mouth. Eddie panted, feeling boneless from his release. Richie still held his hip, other hand moving up to show Richie had come as well.  

Eddie gently tugged at one of Richie’s hands until the other boy got the hint, rising to collapse beside Eddie on the bed.  

“I think,” Richie began, panting a little. “I think we should play chicken more often.”


End file.
